It's Never Too Late
by i should know who i am by now
Summary: HOT FUZZ. Danny missed. He honestly had never meant to actually hurt Nicholas, but he had missed and now Nicholas was dying and there was nothing Danny could do he honestly hadn't meant to, but now it was too late, it seemed.


_**It's Never Too Late.**_

**Summary** - ((_This world will never be what I expected... Now and again we try to just stay alive...)) _Danny missed. He **honestly** had _never_ meant to actually _hurt_ Nicholas, but he had missed and now Nicholas was _**dying **_and there was nothing Danny could do; he _honestly_ hadn't meant to, but now it was too late, it seemed. _((Please send me anything but signals that are mixed 'cause I can't read your rolling eyes...; out of touch, are we out of time?))  
__**Pairings**_ - Nicholas-Danny themed.  
_**Status**__ -_ _In Progress  
__**Warnings**__ - _Possible Character Death(s), Language.

Okay, so this one was inspired by two songs I've been listening to, and not to mention also inspired by one of the saddest scenes in Hot Fuzz. The songs were** Three Days Grace** - _'Never Too Late'_ and **Dashboard Confessional** - _'Again I Go Unnoticed'_, so maybe check those out sometime and see if you can get the same feelings I had felt to be inspired with this story..

It's still basically the same although I tried to change it accordingly with the situation.  
I _do_ know it's a comedy/ action movie and all that, but all movies need some sort of angst. Plus, I'm just an angsty person, so yeaah.

Now, beware for there is most likely a lot of OOC - because an unlikely person cries, but I'm trying to stay in character while also imagining what it would be like for those characters to be in the situations they're in with all the stress, sadness, and everything else.

I also apologize for any errors and other crap that I screwed up; please keep in mind that this is my first **Hot Fuzz** fanfic.

This story absolutely and seriously killed me to write... so if it gets crappy then it's because it was so hard to write...  
It's slaaash, too.

There _is_ going to be a chapter two.

* * *

... Nicholas Angel had never expected this, not once in his life had he dreamed of this type of situation; he was the top cop, the killer of a crack addict, a savior to many, the job drunk officer... he was an angel to so many that he had saved, and now he was realizing that there was no one here to save him. What had he done to deserve this? Why did he have to be transferred over to this God forsaken village to now only become a corpse like those he had seen? Couldn't he do anything? Wouldn't anyone save him? Maybe if he had just, for once in his life, let the murders go as accidents and allow more innocents to be killed for the most silliest reasons that he wouldn't be in this situation...

He wouldn't have been able to stay out of it, he knew.  
He had to prove to himself that he could keep justice still and alive in all it's glory...

And, where had it gotten him?

Panic rose up inside of him as he stumbled out of the catacombs; dark blue eyes wide, alert, and frightened as he looked around, instantly seeing the onslaught of NWA members surrounding him with their ominous hoods covering their faces, flashlights in one hand and menacing weapons held securely in the other as they advanced, their eyes trained only upon the lone and betrayed officer that eyed them all with the expression of the dread of knowing there was a slim chance of surviving - like a deer caught in the headlights of a semi truck coming full speed at him with no intentions of stopping. Dear God, was he going to die? He didn't want to die... he couldn't - he _wouldn't_ die, not yet!

Inhaling a shaky breath, he surveyed the area again and, finding what appeared to be the weak spot, he quickly moved forward, footsteps sounding a little too loudly on the ground as he ran, noticing a little too late that none of the NWA moved forward to stop him, they simply stood there at the ready like a troop of soldiers waiting to be commanded into action. Why weren't they trying to stop him? The thought never entered his mind as his paced suddenly slowed, his eyes and flashlight focused on a familiar and large figure that was moving toward him rather quickly. Was someone stopping them? Was it Frank? Oh please, God, let it be someone that was going to save him... He didn't want to die; he wasn't ready.

_Nicholas was scared._

"Danny?"

He had finally found his voice as the figure continued to come at him, and he had recognized the other officer rather quickly. His mind didn't seem to work; Danny had tried to stop him before so why was he stopping for Danny, allowing his partner to near in on him as he stood there like an oblivious fool who seemed not to be recognizing when he was staring death right in the face. Maybe his mind didn't register the other man as a threat simply because Danny was also his only and best friend here; honestly, they had bonded so much it seemed impossible for his brain to register Danny - Danny Butterman for God's sake, the fumbling, sweet, action-obsessed Danny! How could it be possible? How could Danny do this, just **betray** him so quickly without _regret_?

Nicholas felt almost dazed as he watched the knife being tooken out from Danny's pocket, and it was then when it clicked in his mind what was going on and what was going to happen. However, by then it was too late and all he could really do was watch in a horrified fashion as the blade glinted in the glow of the flashlights surrounding them and falling upon them like they were in some sort of sick play that couldn't end in a good way at all; he jerked back slightly - an ill mistake - and the knife plunged painfully into his skin just a inch from the notebook, ripping through the tender flesh and going deep as blood and some ketchup squirted from the wound, some hitting Angel's neck as he barely managed not to scream - instead a strange sound of pain escaped his lips - from the burning pain that seemed to set his whole body aflame.

Danny...?

_'Why? Why? Danny, dear God, why did you do this to me, Danny? __**Why**__? I trusted you, Danny. Oh, Jesus Christ... it __**hurts**__... Why...?'_

A startled and pain filled gasp escaped Nicholas Angel's lips that were widely parted in a shocked 'O', a look of betrayal filling his eyes and face as he stared in utter shock and horror at Danny as the pain coursed through him, large amounts of blood continuing to spill from the wound and soak his shirt with the tainting colour of red, small droplets that avoided the absorbent fabric trailing down his body that was starting to go into shock, leaving a terrible trail of wet red - a striking contrast to the now colour-drained appearance of his face that stared only at Danny - the traitor, the fucker! - who no longer dared to look at him, the other officer's eyes trained solely upon the bottom of Nicholas's shirt or somewhere that was not Nicholas's face.

The bastard couldn't even look at him in the eyes.  
How funny.

Feeling about ready to puke from the unbearable pain of being stabbed, his dark blue eyes traveled down to gaze at the wound and at the surrounding red area of his button up shirt. Fear and dismay welled up inside of him as he felt tears building in his eyes, darkness weighing in on him - a pleasant release from the pain that seemed to be tearing him to bits. It hurt more to be stabbed now, he suddenly realized as he tore his gaze away from the knife that stuck out of the shirt and wound in a taunting manner, perhaps it was because this one was of such bitter betrayal of someone who had trusted so dearly?

How ironic; Angel had trusted Danny with his life and that is what he was losing to the person he had trusted it to.

Nicholas couldn't handle the pain of it all, he suddenly realized as he took a shuddering breath, eyes staring accusingly at Danny, mouth still opened in shock, thoughts feeling hazy and unclear as he continued to stare as if expecting the other officer to suddenly swoop him up, get him away, and save him somehow. Did Danny even realize what he had _done_, what he was **doing**? Had he been forced to do this by his father? ... Did he _hate_ Danny - _**could**_ he even hate Danny who he had grown so close to... ?

As the darkness began to consume him and the flashlight felt too heavy to hold now and dropped to the ground with what sounded like an earth shattering crack - most likely the glass breaking and the light dying _(the light was dying like him, too...)_ from the breakage; it was then when a startling and all the more terrifying and bittersweet realization came upon Nicholas -

H e was in love with Danny - the _traitor_, the **bastard**, the idiot who had stabbed him - who had _betrayed_ him. Why did he realize now when there would be no chance of telling him?

It was all over, but he couldn't help but screaming in his head that he didn't want to _die_; he just wasn't ready, he couldn't!

Why did _he_ have to **die**? He had suffered enough for killing the crack addict; had that mental torture not been enough for redemption? What did he do to deserve this? He honestly didn't want to die - it hurt too much and he was so _scared_ he could cry. He was **terrified** and it was showing in those dimming dark blues of his that were overly moistened with tears.

He didn't want to die. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to die. _**He didn't want to **__**die**_

Nicholas Angel's legs gave out and he fell to the ground onto his knees quite hard, the pain barely registering in his head - it was nothing compared to the stab wound; he was already so numb with agony, denial, fear, and betrayal he could hardly feel it at all. The darkness was about ready to take him away - somewhere far away where he couldn't feel so _hurt_ and so alone and so damn **betrayed **that all of this would be _nothing_ and he'd be okay -- at least, that's what he prayed for. He wanted to _**live**_, to wake up and have this all be a bad dream. But, it wasn't, and the fear coursing through his veins could never be felt in a dream; the gasping breathes he was taking and the shuddering of his body as it hurt to simply breathe was much too realistic to ever be fake.

Everything was just too _real_.

Nicholas wouldn't give up without a fight though, and as the darkness was threatening to overthrow him completely - to push him off a cliff that seemed to go on forever, and surely he wouldn't be able to survive that fall, if it ever ended at all, that was... - and send him to that blissful and yet frightening darkness he managed to move his eyes up, still wide and glossy with tears as the single and pain filled question of _**'Why?'**_ lingered upon pale and open lips, unable to be formed into a word to say aloud to the quiet form of Danny Butterman - his friend, his confidant, and perhaps if he could pull through... his lover... _'Why? Why? Why? __Why_

Just as the darkness finally took him over, he saw the dark brown eyes of Danny finally look at him, bright like they always were...  
It only took _one second_ to see the sudden dimming and look of horror sweep the gleam right out of his gaze before Nicholas allowed his body to give in and, even before he hit the ground with another loud thud, his body went limp and eyes closed, blood still leaking from the wound as it began to taint the ground, the dirt sucking it up and creating an even darker spot that could easily be cleaned. The night was suddenly all too quiet and still as flashlights fell upon the still form of Sergeant Nicholas Angel.

It only took one second for Danny to realized he had missed. _Danny missed._ He **honestly** had _never_ meant to actually _hurt_ Nicholas, but he had missed and now Nicholas was _**dying **_and there was nothing Danny could do; _he honestly hadn't meant to_, but now it was too late, it seemed.

It only took Danny five seconds to realize he had practically killed his best friend.  
It only took one second for one mistake to ruin him.  
It would take him forever to accept it.

"Good work Danny! Now, m'boy," Frank's grinning face emerged from the crowd of the NWA, aglow with pride and amusement like this was all some kind of joke. "Would you mind cleaning up the body? Simon can handle the blood. Make sure he is never found - we'll just say he left Sandford. Then, we can all go celebrate with some ice cream!"

Sooner than he hoped, Danny found himself alone as he stared down upon Nicholas' form, the other man seemingly still and lifeless - just a shell of the strong Nicholas Angel he had known - nothing but a corpse, now. Holding back sudden tears, Danny moved painstakingly slow as he bent down, first tenderly removing the knife and trying not to throw up as the sickening wound seemed to glitter with Nicholas' blood.  
With shaking hands he reached out to check Angel's pulse when his hopeful eyes caught site of a small movement of Nicholas' chest; up, down, up, down, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale... Was he...--? Nicholas was alive, although he seemed too pale and still to be. By the power of Greyskull, Nicholas was still hanging on!

Instincts suddenly kicked on and Danny felt his shaking hands and arms gingerly pick up the other officer - Nicholas felt so light which gave Constable Butterman a feeling of dread in his stomach... that must mean that Nicholas had lost quite a lot of blood, he realized. Managing to pull Nicholas' arm around his neck, his other arm wrapped securely around the other officer's waist as he began to quickly head for his car, thoughts racing at a dizzying pace through his shocked mind. He could still save Nicholas, couldn't he? Angel was strong, he wouldn't give up so easily, _would he_? But what if...

What if he **did **give up so easily? What did he have in Sandford to give him the will to hang on?

Pushing aside such negative thoughts - which was a little uncharacteristic for the usually positive Danny - he found himself reaching his car sooner than he thought he would, mouth slightly agape as he glanced at the trunk then to the passenger seat before managing to open the door to the passenger seat and place Nicholas upon it, eyes widening just slightly as he stared at the way the Sergeant's head had just seemed to roll lifelessly to the side as if he was a true corpse instead just of a barely breathing human trying to survive a betrayal. His stomach lurched unpleasantly and he looked around, a bit paranoid now for some reason.

As he shut the door and pulled away, quickly entering the drivers side and starting up the engine, his eyes focused blurrily upon the red on his fingers and palm, the crimson liquid feeling alarmingly moist and almost sticky as he started up the car and began to drive. The positive Danny was suddenly fading along with Nicholas whose gasps for air seemed all the more strained, although there would be an occasional twitch of his head or hand, a bittersweet comfort of knowing that Angel was still alive - still fighting to live and survive - but of also knowing that the man must be in such pain... and why?

Because of Danny. It was all his fault, it was completely his fault Nicholas was so hurt.

It was him to blame that Nicholas may not survive _(and when he thought of this his hands tensely tightened so hard upon the steering wheel he winced.)_.  
He was responsible for _all _of **this**.

He had missed. He had missed. He had missed. He had fucking missed!

"Fuck!" The word tore itself from his throat and his hands began shaking again. Such pain was suddenly placed upon his shoulders as the realization of what happened and what could happen sunk in on him like a block of cement sinking to the bottom of the ocean. So many hopes and doubts crowded in his mind he almost felt like it would explode, and it became increasingly harder to drive with such shaking hands. Danny had been about ready to curse again before a small groan seemed to float out of nowhere and, with rising hope building up inside of him and truly making him feel like he was going to burst, he swerved dangerously, managing not to wreck as he quickly parked the car and with hesitant but praying eyes looked over to the stirring Nicholas.

"Nicholas? I thought you was a goner..."

Danny felt so unbearably exposed as his partner's dim dark blue eyes opened, confusion and betrayal - only two of so many emotions - swimming within those unusually darkened eyes of Nicholas' as they managed to focus weakly upon Danny, those dark blues appearing to barely be able to stay open; tears of pain and perhaps something else - maybe the fear of death or something a little deeper - appearing in his eyes. The familiar unpleasant lurching in Danny's stomach returned again and he smiled slightly - a bit too forcefully - at Nicholas who stared at him with disbelief showing clearly upon his pain-contorted features.  
Nicholas was seeming confused at where he was and what was happening, soundless words forming upon his colourless moving lips but no sound coming out as the injured man seemed to be trying to speak, and finally, after what felt like years of dread and anticipation, Angel managed to speak, his voice hoarse and strained as carefully chosen words fell upon cold and pale lips.

"Why, Danny?"

"I..." The smile began to fade from Constable Butterman's lips. "I missed. Guess I'm still not that good of a policeman officer." His voice was far from the usual carelessness and cheery tone he usually had - all traces of that Danny seemed to have faded away at the moment. "I didn't mean to, honest. I was aiming for your notebook..." He trailed off, feeling ashamed under the still surprisingly strong gaze of Nicholas.

Understanding flooded into Nicholas like some kind of sweet painkiller that would make the stinging of the scratch upon his face vanish, that would make the even worse burning of the wound being exposed to air disappear and the other aches and pains die away. He just wanted it all to stop hurting so badly - he didn't want it to end, however, but even a fool would know when they are staring death in the face, fighting or not.  
It was still so unlike Nicholas to give up without a fight, and to hell if he would give up; he was going to **survive**, he was going to be _alright_. The basic instinct of human survival was still running strong inside of him, and the still lasting fear of death kept him going, continually fighting against the loss of blood and tormenting pain.

"Sorry..." Danny's lips felt dry suddenly as he gazed sadly upon Nicholas who still struggled to breathe. "I'm s'sorry."

"...Christ, Danny..." A ghost of a smile appeared upon Nicholas' rather cold lips - seeming so strange and out of place as the man was trying to say what he felt he desperately needed to say as pain wracked his body; it grew harder to breathe. "You are a good police _officer_, I just...-" The need to make him get the correct police term even as he struggled to live was still there, and it comforted Danny in a slight way.

"But I killed you!"

Ignoring the interruption of the guilt-consumed Danny, Nicholas continued, "Danny..." How could he say this? "Thanks."

"Huh?" Confusion swept across Danny's expression, making his eyes widen in a confused manner, mouth opening into a small, awkward 'o' of uncertainty. "That's rubbish; what the hell are you tryin' to say?"

"Danny... I..." His arm, weak from blood loss, managed to move and his pale and infirm fingers wrapped around the other officer's wrist, hand cold compared to the warmth of Danny's flesh. How could he say this and not make it sound so cheesy and corny? Did he dare even say it?

"I really thought you was a goner; can't believe I actually stabbed you... Fuck."

"... I don't want to die."

Danny's brown eyes widened as he looked at Nicholas, surprise suddenly coursing through him as he noticed the glistening trails of something wet that had made it's way down Nicholas' cheeks, dropping pathetically off his face and mingling with the blood that stained the fabric of his jacket and button up shirt. Didn't want to...? Oh God, no, Nicholas wasn't giving up, was he? Panic overwhelmed Danny like it had Nicholas when he had been trying to escape the NWA; it was like he was trapped in a tunnel, the walls which kept moving toward him were threatening to crush him with a realization he still hadn't really considered or accepted yet.

How could he accept it?

_Nicholas could die._

"Don't say that!"

"Danny, I don't want to die..." Angel's voice sounded even more hoarse and barely held any of it's usual strength and vigor. "I don't want to."

"You're _not_ gonna die!" Danny was desperate to try and tell Nicholas this; why the hell would the stubborn Nicholas even be thinking this, anyway?

"Fuck, Danny!" Somehow, Nicholas' voice managed to rise, although it cracked halfway through. "I'm going to die!"

"You're not!" It almost felt like a childish argument at this point about who was able to get what toy or go first on some ride. "That's not true, why are you sayin' that?"

Nicholas seemed to have given up, eyes staring vacantly at Danny, tears still streaming down his cheeks and clearing what grime and dirt there was from that small area that the liquid went down like a tiny river. He was still fighting, anyone could tell by the way it looked painful to simply see his chest rise and fall - shuddering and quaking with each effort that most likely took quite the bit of strength even to do while Danny took it for granted. Nothing like being stabbed and feeling the consuming darkness coming over you to finally make you realize you were quite screwed.

The fear was overwhelming now...

_**Why him?**_

"Nicholas?"

"Jesus Christ, Danny..." His voice was low again, barely above a whisper, but his eyes remained strong although they were dimmed and blurred behind the tears. "Don't laugh."

"Why would I laugh?" Confusion was now heard in Danny's voice as he looked at Nicholas questioningly, unable to believe that the strong and bulletproof Nicholas Angel was crying. "Nothing funny 'bout this..."

"I don't want to die Danny," Nicholas' hand tightened just barely around Danny's wrist before loosening and suddenly gripping his hand much more tightly, surprisingly tight for one in a state like his. "I'm... scared." Another hesitant pause as he seemed to be barely able to breathe now. "I like you, Danny."

A pause. "Well, I like you, too, but I don't see how this fits at a time like this... you're fucking hurt, Nicholas!" Danny exclaimed, clearly not catching the hidden meaning, seeming all the more confused that Nicholas was holding his hand, simply thinking the Sergeant had lost a little too much blood. "Give me a second, I'll get the car started, take you to a hospi'al."

"No, Danny," Nicholas shook his head, causing tear droplets to fall a little more quickly. "I love you."

It had become almost tensely silence now, Danny's free hand frozen upon the keys, head snapping in Nicholas' direction who's eyes were drooping considerably, peering up at him with that scarily vacant stare, as if he had already got up and left his body behind to be automatically programmed to say all this - but he could see the look of desperation and small hope that managed to show through the void eyes, seeming glazed over in tears. Nicholas loved him? But... what if this was just from the loss of blood? A strange feeling stirred up within him, and his mouth opened slightly.

Did he feel the same?

"Nicholas?"

"I don't want to die." It was barely a whisper now, seeming more like wordless motions of his lips as he gazed at Danny, seeming pathetic with the tears rolling down his cheeks and the silent pleading tone in his barely audible voice. So unlike the Nicholas Angel everyone knew, so vulnerable and so uncharacteristic. "Danny..."

Before Butterman could even register what had happened - he didn't know if he had leaned down, but it seemed more likely than Nicholas getting the strength to - he found Nicholas' terrifyingly cold lips pressed tightly against his, frightened and desperate feeling as he heard a small murmur escape Nicholas' lips before he felt the other officer's forehead hit against his own, lips still against each other as he tried to figure out what Nicholas had said that sounded so unbearably sad and - it almost sounded like some request... - and he felt Nicholas' hand loosen upon his own, but still could feel what felt like the other man's breath against his upper lip, and wondered why Nicholas hadn't moved away by now.

Perhaps it was because it felt like, to Nicholas, if he did he would die.

Thinking about what had happened continued to make Danny feel as if he would throw up; the guilt, the self-loathing, and the hatred for his father building up inside of him like some kind of infectious fungi growing inside of him.

How could he handle this?

Finally, he forced himself to pull away from the chaste kiss, mouth opening to say something - maybe reassuring? What was he supposed to say at a time like this? - he felt Nicholas' head hit his arm, no warmth at all coming Nicholas. Oh, Christ, he was going to puke... Forcing himself not to bolt out of the car, his hands and whole body began to tremble as he gently pushed Nicholas into a sitting position, bile rising into his throat as those dark brown eyes studied Nicholas' features, his stomach beginning to heave, as he continued to stare at Nicholas...

Oh, God, _Nicholas..._

Tears still fell down from blank eyes, the look of life fading completely out of them - how could he even put the horrid sight into words? How can one explain the scene of death of their friend - of a fellow human? To see their eyes continually dim as if their soul is leaving them slowly to rot away as an empty shell before finally you see that glimmer in their eye - that spark of life that you never really noticed shining in their eyes before - grow dimmer and dimmer and until suddenly it just fades away completely and their stare - their once lively eyes - becomes utterly vacant and only the corpse is left behind - a cold, limp, lifeless shell that once contained a warm, active, and strong man.

His face was unbearably pale and most likely cold to the slightest touch, eyes open and tear filled even in death _("I don't want to die. I'm... scared.")_ and his lips starting to turn the barest tint of blue although one could hardly notice it now. His mouth was just barely open, showing he had indeed told Danny something important with his last breath although Danny hadn't heard it. Even as Danny stared now, he swore he could still see the emotions of hurt, absolute terror of death, and betrayal in those life lacking dark blues. Angel's hand still rested upon Danny's, although it was limp and motionless; the calming but painful rise and fall of his chest had quit.  
...What truly terrified him was Nicholas' eyes. The quiet and burning strength that had always been so noticeable within them was gone, and he just couldn't handle it anymore. _It hurt._

Nothing but an empty body...  
Nicholas had not wanted to die; he had fought so bravely, but now...

_"I __don't__ want to __**die**__ Danny, I'm... __**scared. **__**I don't want to die**__."_

Danny swallowed thickly as he finally couldn't stand the sight of the tear and blood soaked body of what once was Nicholas Angel. It wasn't Nicholas anymore... it was just a shell, though. A corpse, a body, a container... Nicholas couldn't die, could he? It seemed impossible for Danny to be able to accept it all; he had never imagined Nicholas as being able to die, since he had met Sergeant Angel... well, the man seemed to be absolutely bulletproof like nothing at all could harm him like some invincible god. How could Nicholas die? It still was just unbelievable... why couldn't he understand it?  
As he struggled to get it through his mind, he opened the door and stumbled out almost like he had stumbled when Nicholas and he had first met - _although he was quite drunk then..._ - and almost fell, but managed to catch himself, and no longer able to hold it all in, he began to throw up, the site of Nicholas' form refusing to leave his mind, the eyes that had lost all life and all quiet and fiery strength... His terror-stricken words of how he did not want to die repeating in his mind like some sort of ghastly death chant that was permanently on replay.

_**... I don't want to die.**_ _I don't want to die. I don't want to die._

But he had.  
And, Danny was to blame.

After emptying his stomach, he hesitantly turned back and looked at his car which held Angel's body. How could Danny ever live with knowing he had been the one to kill Nicholas when in fact he could have been the one to save him? To wake up every morning dreading the day and the night of guilt ridden thoughts of Nicholas and how he had died such a painful and young death. Nicholas hadn't deserved it, not one bit of it; for Christ's sake the man had practically spent what was now his whole life making the world a better and safer place for so many people who had never even thanked him once for it --

Nicholas had saved everyone else, but when it had ultimately come down to it...

no one could save him.

_I don't want to die._

_... I'm scared. I'm terrified, but I'm trying to hide it, __**I'm **__**trying**__** to stay strong**__; I've faced death so many times but I have never succumb to it which is why it's all the more terrifying now that I have to face it. I don't want to face it, I want to live._

_**I want to live.**_

_I'm dying and I can't accept it; it hurts too much.  
__I can't figure out why it's __**me**__ that has to die._

_Why me? Why now?  
__**What did I do to deserve this?**__ I'm so sorry..._

_Please... don't let it end this way._

_**I don't want to die...  
**__Please..._


End file.
